Too Late
by MissAnnThropic
Summary: The inside story of Jack’s transfer.


Title: Too Late  
Author: MissAnnThropic  
Spoilers: Avalon/beginning of season 9  
Summary: The inside story of Jack's transfer.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Stargate but my rabid fan behavior. Alas.

A/N: If the rest of you are like me, so much at the SGC was different when Avalon aired, not the least of which being the Jack/Sam ship shot all to hell, that you felt like you missed an episode. So I wondered how it went down. Truth is, as much as I like the Jack/Sam pairing, I don't think they are 'meant to be together'. Because by and large, I don't believe people are meant to be together. The only exception to that rule in my numerous TV fandoms was Farscape's John and Aeryn. So this is what I think we missed between Jack and Sam. (P.S. - And because it seems rather apropos, your random tidbit of useless information for this fic is that the whole time I was writing it I was listening to Tracy Chapman's 'Give Me One Reason'.)

* * *

Sam was in her lab working on an experiment when she heard. Her attention when she was engrossed in her work was divided at best if someone tried to talk to her, so it took a few seconds before Daniel's words sank in. When they did she was sure she'd heard wrong. Sam looked up at Daniel and his expression should have said it all. But Sam asked anyway, "What?"

Daniel looked downtrodden and unsure, on the cusp of confused. He looked almost lost, like he didn't know what he should do or how he should feel. "Umm... Jack's transferring out of the SGC."

And still Sam thought that couldn't be right. "What?"

Daniel sighed and perched himself wearily on one of her stools. He planted his hands between his thighs, shoulders hunched, face drawn, and he looked like an abandoned little boy wondering where his parents were. Sam stared at Daniel. His demeanor was a complete one-eighty from lately. Lately, he'd been elated to think he'd be going on the Daedalus to Atlantis. He'd been giddy. Sam had just been sad. It would mean Daniel was leaving, for a long time. Still, she'd tried to tell herself that at least he was alive this time, not leaving because it was that or death by radiation poisoning.

Daniel looked away guiltily, and that more than anything made Sam finally grasp Daniel's words. Not that it was true, but that Daniel believed it was, because surely he was wrong, General O'Neill couldn't be _leaving_. Transferring? Where the hell was he going to go?

"Who told you that?" Sam asked, experiment forgotten.

Daniel looked toward Sam and saw the hope and dubiousness in her face. She wanted to know it was just a rumor he'd heard from one of the airmen, completely unreliable, that Daniel was getting worked up over nothing. No such luck. "Jack told me."

Sam blinked, mouth agape, and Daniel frowned dejectedly.

"Wow... I... I can't believe... are you sure?"

Daniel's lips twitched in a humorless smirk.

"When did he tell you that?"

"Just now... I came here first, I guess I didn't know what else to do."

Sam sat down heavily on her own stool and felt like she was pulling Gs. She felt like she weighed three hundred pounds, like she was swimming through sand, mind foggy and failing to find purchase.

"Maybe I shouldn't go to Atlantis."

Sam's mind was spinning. She looked up at Daniel and could see he needed her to say something. That Daniel was foolish to think his leaving was why Jack was transferring, that Jack's feelings weren't so easily hurt, but she couldn't. She was still trying to comprehend the thought. General O'Neill leaving? Why?

"Why?" she whispered to herself, but Daniel heard and mistook it for a question directed at him. "What if me wanting to go to Atlantis makes it look like the work I do at the SGC doesn't mean anything anymore? I mean, he could think I'm jumping ship or abandoning him or something. It's not that, Sam, honestly, I just..."

"No," Sam shook her head faintly, "no, he knows how much you've always wanted to go to Atlantis, he wouldn't think–" then Sam stopped because she couldn't say that's not what Jack thought. She didn't know why he'd decide to up and transfer.

"Sam, I..." Daniel started, then gave up in wordless resignation.

Sam pursed her lips. Jack leaving. She'd been shell-shocked at first, but now it was settling into determination and ire. No. He wouldn't do this, not just like that. Not without an explanation.

"I'll talk to him, Daniel, I'm sure... he can't actually want to leave."

Daniel shook his head. "I don't know, Sam... he sounded pretty sure when he told me."

Sam was shaking her head solely because she refused to believe it. Daniel knew Jack, how to read Jack, but Jack had fooled them all before. So what if he _sounded_ serious? It could be another covert mission, another ruse, a feint. She wasn't about to buy it out of hand.

"I'll figure out what's going on," Sam promised, and Daniel nodded but he didn't look hopeful. He was already accepting the stunning decision and that panicked Sam further. There was something else going on, there had to be. No warning, no discussion... he'd talked to them first before he accepted command, _surely_ he'd run it by them before he decided to abdicate it.

* * *

By the time she got off work and was on her way to Jack's house she was no longer quite so sure he was playing a game. She still hoped that was the case, but she'd had too long to think, to let the idea percolate in her brain until strange little notions came bubbling to the surface. It was true he'd had reservations about commanding the SGC from the beginning. He'd had to be told all the pros by his teammates before he seemed ready to consider it. And she couldn't deny, even when she didn't want to see it, that since he became 'the man' he'd never been as happy as he'd been as the CO of a front line team. She couldn't ignore the way years seemed to catch up to him in only one, as though doing what he actually enjoyed had held them back and succumbing to a job he didn't relish had loosed those years to exact their abuse on him. She tried to remember the last joke he'd made, or the last smile he'd cracked, and she had to go back at least a year to find either.

He disliked his work. Sam had been able to delude herself, to blind herself, for a year, but this scare had ripped away the blinders. Jack didn't like what he did anymore, and if she were in his shoes what would she do? Leave, transfer, resign.

Sam was upon his house before she knew it and pulled up beside his pickup truck. She turned off the ignition then sat there, heart pounding as she stared with something akin to fear at his house. She'd been here before, and it wasn't any easier this time than the last. She didn't want to go up to his door. She didn't want to know. She didn't want to know, because if it was true the longer she sat in her car the longer it could still be possible that Daniel was mistaken. Schrodinger's cat all over again. Surely Schrodinger had never felt so much anxiety about sealing the cat's fate by knowing it.

Sam took a deep breath and got out of the car. The trip to his front door was almost a blur, and Sam heard her own knuckles knocking on the wood door like there was cotton in her ears muffling the noise. She waited three thousand years before he opened the door. Jack looked out at her, somber and subdued, and Sam swallowed. That he looked so morose told her nothing, because she realized now that's how Jack had looked for a year.

"Carter," he said in monotone greeting, and Sam wanted to turn on her heel and leave and throw her arms around him at the same time. 'Don't go, please stay,' her mind was chanting, but instead she said, "Sir."

Jack cant his head, regarded her quietly, then said, "Guess you talked to Daniel."

And Sam's world folded in on itself without fanfare, softly and quietly like a collapsing tent. She knew her answer right then.

"Yes, sir," Sam answered softly.

Jack nodded, looked down in thought, then stepped away from the open door. Sam took the invitation and stepped into his house. Jack walked back into his living room and plopped down on the couch. Sam followed, numb, and studied him. He was picking at the armrest idly, one foot braced on the edge of his coffee table, but his attention was split... half of it was on her, waiting.

"Sir..." Sam hesitantly moved closer and sat down on the other end of the couch. "I don't understand why you want to leave the SGC."

Jack glanced at her, back at his fingers worrying the armrest material, then he shrugged, "Just figured it was time to."

'Crap answer, crap answer!' Sam's mind screamed in fury, but instead she cleared her throat and ventured, "Where are you going?"

"D.C.," he said, then looked at her with the ghost of a smile, "your old stomping ground."

Sam tried to return the smile but she knew it looked sickly.

"They're putting me in charge of the stargate program from there; I'm taking over Hammond's old position. He's moving on to command the Prometheus project."

Sam didn't know what to say so she didn't.

"I won't be made a major general since I just made brigadier last year, but it's a big move, so I imagine..."

"Matter of time," Sam provided, and Jack made a 'there you go' gesture with his left hand.

"I didn't know you were that... interested in promotion."

Jack half-shrugged and made a lackadaisical face. "Well, always nice to build up the old retirement fund."

Sam wanted to shake him back to his senses but the practical part of her kept her seated. "Why didn't you tell us you were considering transferring?" 'Why didn't you tell me?'

Jack paused as if he'd heard her internal question rather than spoken one, then said, "Carter... I..." Jack deflated. "I don't know. Maybe... well, it was easier this way."

"I'm sure it was," Sam said bitterly.

Jack looked at her and Sam met his gaze squarely. "Excuse me?" Jack queried, and it was in that tone. That commanding officer tone of 'you want to reconsider that, airman'.

Sam was just mad enough to be insubordinate as hell. "I mean, this way you didn't have to defend your decision or justify it to your friends, you get to just slink off without a fight."

Jack's eyes glittered darkly and his jaw set but he didn't retaliate. He didn't fight back and that was not, _not_ Jack.

"Yep," he merely clipped in response, and Sam looked away quickly.

Jack let the silence hang tensely a moment before he said brokenly, "I'm tired, Carter... I'm tired of it all."

Sam looked back at him, his sincere dark eyes, and she wanted to cry. She knew he was right. She'd seen it happen, so gradually she never knew they were losing him. But slowly the light in his eyes faded, his quirky smile vanished, his fire died and they'd all let it go too long, and now it was too late.

"You don't have to leave," Sam argued, and Jack sighed wearily.

"You could tell Hammond–" and she trailed. Tell him what? Tell him to demote him back to colonel, put him back on a team, foolishly try to make it the way it was? She'd give him back SG-1 in a heartbeat but that wasn't the point. Things could never be what they were, life never worked that way. It had happened once when Daniel descended, but that was once more than lifetime allowed.

Jack was giving a lackluster smile and shaking his head, "Kirk never was right as an admiral, you know, busted down to captain was the best thing that ever happened to him," Jack dropped both his hands into his lap, "but that's the movies."

And it wasn't fair, because getting himself into trouble enough to get demoted wouldn't be hard for Jack, but if he screwed up that big people died. He wouldn't do that even to get back the life he'd had.

Sam sagged back on the cushions.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Sam," Jack said after a long pause, and Sam closed her eyes. 'Sam'... he was already gone.

Sam shook her head and opened her eyes to look at him. "Just retire," she said abruptly. "Don't transfer, just quit."

Jack looked at her pointedly and Sam felt a familiar flutter, part thrill and part unadulterated fear, but it didn't matter anymore. He was gone anyway so what did she have to lose? "Just retire and... stay."

Jack looked like he just might... but only for a split second. Then he was resigned again and shook his head. He wouldn't say it, but she could see it on his face. That 'tired of it all' included them, too. He was tired of the waiting and wondering and hoping and acting. He'd rather make a clean break than make a mangled attempt. And after so many years, so many forbidden desires, it couldn't be anything but a bloody mess. They'd let the dead horse lie too long.

And Sam knew it. She hated it and railed at it, but looking at his face she knew it. She couldn't take the moral high ground; she'd gotten engaged to someone else when nothing had changed with her and Jack. She'd bailed out first, and she couldn't condemn him finally going overboard.

"We both know the boredom would drive me crazy," Jack teased flatly, and Sam was beyond being hurt. Whether it was a veiled jab at her or not (and it probably wasn't, Jack wouldn't be that cruel to her), she didn't feel it. She'd have to cut and run to save herself from losing it. Emotional detachment was almost second nature, because it had been her only salvation so many times with Jack. He would leave and she would let him and that was that.

"You're probably right," she returned lowly, and Jack sighed sadly.

Sam stared at her hands, fingers laced together, and said gently, "We're going to miss you." 'I'm going to miss you'.

Jack said without looking up, "Me too."

Sam couldn't be there anymore. She wasn't detached yet... not enough not to cry, and she wouldn't cry in front of him for this. She cried for friends and family dying, not the biggest 'what if' of her adult life.

Sam stood and Jack stood with her. "I should go."

"Yeah, sure."

Sam couldn't order her legs to move. She stood, rooted, and instead of moving toward the door turned to face him. She stared at him, studied his face to relearn every line and detail. Jack returned her look, questioning and understanding and accepting all at once.

"If you ever... if you ever miss... the Springs... and get tired of D.C... you can always come back." 'I'll be here.'

Jack smiled fleetingly, gently, and he nodded. "I know."

"We could... go fishing." 'Forever.'

Jack looked long and hard at her, eyes piercing. He got it. "I'll keep that in mind."

Sam hated herself more than him now. Why did she have to wait until now to be willing to try? Why did it take this to make her realize she would have chosen him over the job when push came to shove? Why did it have to happen too late?

Life sucked and she was an idiot.

Sam continued to stare at him, right in front of her but already walking away. Papers signed, transfer approved, good as gone. Everything too late because they'd been stubborn. It had seemed so noble and self-sacrificing at the time. Too late she realized they'd just been plain morons.

"So..." Jack said, drawn out, "see you around, Carter?"

Sam nodded absently. 'Unfortunately no, not this time.' She cocked her head thoughtfully, Jack cant his fractionally in question, and Sam said, "One more thing," then crossed the remaining distance between them in one stride, reached up to curl her hand around the back of his neck, and kissed him. Jack seemed to startle for a second, but only that, then he was kissing her back. And they stayed lip-locked what seemed like hours. But it couldn't have been that, because though they could live years in a holding pattern they could only go so long without air. Still, it was long enough for Sam to melt into pure sensation, for Jack's hand to come up and find a resting place at the small of her back, for Sam's hand to slide up into his hair and thread through the gray. The last time she'd been so bold his hair had been brown and she'd been out of her mind. Or closer to sane than she'd been since.

Finally Sam pulled away, eyes staying closed a long time to hold the memory at the forefront of her thoughts. He kissed like she thought he would and it made it that much harder and the ache that much stronger. Damned fools, the both of them. Jack's arm was still around her, holding her but only lightly, prepped to break away and let her go.

Sam finally opened her eyes and looked up at him. He was watching her, regret and resignation in his eyes. Maybe a little longing, but he knew it was one last wild move by either of them. Still, he was glad she'd braved it.

Sam looked down at his chest and smiled, bittersweet. When she looked back into his eyes he was taking his lead from her. Always had, she realized, and she'd let them slip away. She'd have to reap what she'd sown, because if there was blame it was hers, seventy-thirty.

It didn't matter now, so Sam said, "We would have been good."

Jack smiled then, almost like he used to but not quite, a little more affectionate and sad and a little less chipper, and he nodded, looked once from her eyes to her lips, then said lowly, "Yeah," as his hand fell away from her back.

Sam took a gargantuan step of three inches back and took in a breath. "Don't go before saying goodbye." 'Don't leave me.'

Jack tucked his hands in his pockets and shrugged, "Ah, you know, we'll have a good riddance party or something, you, me, Daniel, Teal'c."

"We'll have cake," Sam said, and Jack smirked.

"Yeah."

Sam nodded then turned and left without glancing back at him. She made it to her car and out of his driveway before she could even think again. The SGC without Jack or Daniel, Teal'c spending so much time with the Jaffa Rebellion... the life she'd known had been unraveling for a long time but like a child with a favorite doll she'd let herself believe things weren't changing, that her favorite toy wasn't falling apart in her hands. She saw the lost stitching and tattered frills now.

Maybe she'd get away for a while, too. Being at the SGC with everyone else from her old team gone... that would be too much at once... too sad. Too many memories, too many things reminding her just how stupid she'd been and for her idiocy she was the last one... alone.

She'd need time. The boys at Area 51 always seemed to want her to help them out on projects; she could probably get a temporary transfer there, no problem. It would be refreshing to get to work more on some of the alien technology she'd had far too short a time before having to turn it over, anyway. And she wouldn't be surrounded by ghosts.

She had a plan, and Lieutenant Colonel Carter was toughening back up. Sam could stay in her little corner, flawed and wounded and weeping uselessly, because the lieutenant colonel had things to do.

She'd make it back to the SGC eventually, because that was her life's work, and apparently worth sacrificing everything else... but not right away. Without her team ('Jack') there wouldn't be as much to return to, anyway. The SGC could wait for once.

END


End file.
